Sasha Braus x Jean Kirschstein
by EinBar
Summary: An erotic fanfic. Please correct any of my English and/or grammar. Jean Kirschstein x Sasha Braus
1. Chapter 1

Please correct any errors if I do have, English was not my first language and I constantly become confused at times on a daily basis because of it. But I believe I have practised enough to create a story in such a crappy language with poor grammar

 ** _Jean's POV_**

Sasha Braus, the thin fat ass of our school. Hell she's even beat every lad at all the eating contests . . . not everyone knows why she does it, but I do. She eats like a hog at school because she's poor. No one knows it but me. How did I acquire such information? She told me without ever realising it.  
You see, she lives in the downtown part of town, at least in the parts where it isn't so bad. I was headed to see an old friend's grave, and all the graveyards are downtown. I saw her, heading into a place labelled "Maria's Orphanage." She was happy and smiling, helping other kids in and saluting to an old skinny woman with superb posture. I didn't know why, but I kept looking and I hadn't noticed at the time how long I was lingering until he eyes met mine. I saw her body stiffen, yet she awkwardly went back to her situation as I continued walking back my original path. I looked back and she was rushing herself and the other small children into the institution. And it all clicked—the tattered running shoes and same back pack from 1st year—we're both 3rd years now. And the fact that she'd always ask if anyone would finish their lunch—she's not fed well let alone given her school necessities. And here I was thinking she was some stylish hipster this entire time.

"Hey Marco haha. . .uh well I got an A in all my classes besides err—gym. . .I've been cutting—but for good reasons!" I bashfully rubbed the back of my neck, looking away from his ground, ashamed. I placed his primrose flowers gently in front of his stone, sat down, and leaned on it.  
"I got a B+ . . . don't be upset. Plus what would it matter, you always got A+s in everything. The football team sure misses you man—it's not the same. We haven't scored a single touchdown since. . ." I choked and looked away, then up at the solemn bright skies that were calm and still. Clouds slowly passed over my face, shadowing the tears I pathetically attempted to restrain.

"D-Don't worry, we'll get to championships eventually—" My voice cracked. I cracked. I lied on the cold grass which smelled like Marco's room. The dew drops tickled my face when I snugged myself closer to him. My best friend. If I could, I'd join him six feet under and wish away all the bad. It was all my fault anyways. My eyes have been closed since I landed on the ground. Closed to shut out the reality. But even then, nothing worked. The flash backs still rushing in—my nonsense and senselessness all over some ridiculous thing that wasn't ever a big deal in the beginning. I just, I just blow up sometimes. Sure I need to vent but, no, that day wasn't the day. And now he's gone because of it.

"Jean!" Marco's echoing yell uttered as his hand reached out to me and I woke in an instance from my daze. I shot up, sitting straight and looking back up into the sky. I looked back to his grave. Hi epitaph read: Advert your eyes from the evil and onto the love from other. It was going to be his senior year quote, he was going to take Sasha to prom, and myself with Mikasa—if she'd ever accept it that is. My breath was calm again and my heart beat normal. I got up and turned around—

"Agh!" I was face to face with potato girl—she was smiling eccentrically.

"Dude!—what the hell-what are you doing here!?"

"You know, I could ask you the same—what?! Visiting your dead creak-headed mother?! Or better yet—your dad who ditched me and left me in this hell?!"

"Hey—I didn't know—what gives you the right to—"

"Jean just shut up! And don't you dare tell anyone about this or so help me and slice you up and feed you to the desperately hungry in cannibalistic societies!" Sasha quickly moved towards me with her finger pointing in my face, she advanced so far that I was up against a tree.

"Hey—HEY! What my dad did and what your mother did had nothing to do with me okay! I didn't even know he was my dad okay I was adopted into a family who's not filled with a bunch of nutters!" I yelled back, and tried putting my hands on her shoulders. But she was steamed.

"Yeah that's only because ye' mum's a crack whore and ye' pop's a lowlife scammer who deserved what he got for what he did to me—NOT THE POINT—just STAY AWAY FROM ME AND WE WON'T HAVE ANY PROBLEMS KIRTSCHSTEIN!"

"Hey—you came here first off all!"

"Only because I feel like you're stalking me—I mean what's a rich future frat boy doing in these parts of town anyways?! For all I know you could've be stalking me—trying to finish your no-good father's work!"

"Sasha calm down and actually. . ."

"Actually what?!"

"I was here to visit someone. . ." my eyes trailed behind her to Marco's grass and grave site. Then I quickly averted my eyes to the ground. She quickly turned and read his name from the distance, then turned back to me in a flash.

"You—you insensitive jerk. . ." Sasha murmured. Her head to the ground, and her stance calm—away from me at least.

"I had to okay! I mean I'm the whole reason he's there anyways!"

"Oh Jean get over your self-pity, no matter what—" Sasha was trying to hide the sound of her voice weakening and her eyes swelling. "You—you know what the Bodt's said, they didn't even want you at the service! Not once! Just—just get out of here." I was silent. My mind in awe and eyes widened to its biggest peak. I was at a loss of words as Sasha plunged herself to the ground, slowly sliding down the tree—her hands covering her face.

"I—I should go. . . "I finally managed to say, gulping my words as I trembled before her.

Yet no response. I started to walk and took one last look at him. The photograph from 2 weeks ago was still there, his golden smile, a smile that could cheer any strangers heart, now gone from my pride. Alas I closed my eyes and moved forward, trying to forget this all.

"Wait!" Sasha sniffled.

"What?" I asked, rather confused.

"Y-you're—you're not going to tell anyone still—about where I dwell . . . right?" She wiped the tears off with her sleeves.

However, being the resentful shit I am, I planned on telling everyone and still do. SO I nodded to her and glanced at the ground, hoping she'd be in too much grief for any reaction.

"Well I guess Marco was right about who you were. . ."

"But. . ." I said. Her head tilted, waiting for me to finish, "But you can make up for the filth you've just told me, and meet me at my home tomorrow evening to help me with statistics."

"You malevolent piece of scum. . . ." She gritted through her teeth, her fists clenched and her tears sobering up.

"Oh well." I smirked and turned away. And within a second she submitted and agreed. I proudly walked away, satisfied with myself and composure.

 ** _General POV_**

Throughout the school day, Sasha and her best friend Mikasa texted and hung out with each other at every chance. Yet Sasha spoke not a single word of what just happened merely a day ago. Mikasa suspected nothing off, so all seemed fine in her grey eyes. Jean would stare her down in lunch, knowing her true reason for her love for food. So she ignored it and ate less than her usual amount.

"Hey are you coming today?" Mikasa asked stoically. For they had planned a sleepover a few days before, for this very day.

"Uh?" Sasha looked back to where Jean was unlocking his burgundy BMW, side looking at Sasha. "Haha about that. ... uh I have this thing with my parents and uhm well—ugh you know?"

Mikasa's face remained unmoving. "No, I don't know. Now what is it?"

"Uh well it's kind of important and I just—"

"Ugh water ever Sasha just go!" Miaksa demanded flustered.

"Oh! Uh—thanks!?" Sasha jumped and hugged then gave Mikasa a cheek kiss.  
"Whatever, just don't rain-check me the next time potato girl." By the time Mikasa finished her sentence, Braus was already off to Jean's direction. Mikasa noticed this and just tilted her head in confusion—why would she be with one of the most popular guys in school—not that he was popular it's just that both herself and Sasha detested him immensely.


	2. Trouble Begins

I would like to add that this fanfic in no way is intended to promote, approve of, or make fun of rape

"Heyyy Braus." Jean winked at her.

"Ugh" She scoffed in disgust.

"Come on, get in." Jean said playfully, opening the door for Sasha.

"You're a pig you know right?"

"Yeah, I embrace it." Jean smugly smirked and looked around with his head casually before entering the driver's seat.

There was 10 minutes of awkward silence for Sasha.

"Hey! Uh how about we put on some music?!"

"Sure why no—"

Sasha immediately began travelling between station to station, focused on the buttons and station numbers.

By the time they got there, they had heard 2 songs.

"Welcome."

"Where are your 'parents'?" Sasha air quoted with her fingers.

"Oh they're out of town Jena replied nonchalantly.

"Oh, okay? Well uhm let's begin our homework." Sasha suggested, rather weirded out that there were not guardians within the premises.

"Uh hey let's go to my room—uh the living room's too stuffy. . ." Jean pathetically said, not making eye contact.

"Uh?" Sasha looked around in the wonderfully gigantic living area, and all that was missing was a PS4, yet nothing off. Yet she went along with it. "Uhm sure?" She answered quite confused herself.

Sasha was led up to his room, and then Jean left to go retrieve refreshments.

It smelled horrid in here—how could such a clean space smell as rancid as it did now. Conveniently, there was a febreeze spray at hand on his nightstand. She grabbed it whilst she pinched her nose, spraying the can everywhere. Sasha broke open her textbook, until something caught her eye: a photograph. It had been one of Marco and Jean smiling as they held up a trophy from their little league football back when they were around 7. Sasha would have naturally been irked and infuriated that Jean left such a photo out in the open, but she just smiled for Marco and gently placed it back where it was.

"Hey Braus?" Sasha jumped, she was off guard and in her own world—remembering back when her and Marco would skip rocks into a secret part of the beach no one else knew about.

"Uh! Hi uh?!" She turned around to face him quickly. He had a tray of cocktail weenies, popcorn, and a pitcher of lemonade. Sasha made her way to the 2 person desk, and they both sat down harmoniously.

"Tch, I'm surprised you didn't have a maid or butler to come up and serve that for us." She scoffed and laughed.

"Well they're a break for about a week, so yeah." Jean replied innocently, he wasn't catching the joke. Sasha just stared at him dumbfounded.

"What?" He asked.

"Dude—you seriously don't understand?" Sasha was mildly shocked, still looking at him to see if he had caught on by now. All he did was tilt his head and blink to signify his confusion. "Well the thing is that I made a joke because—well—ugh—never mind. Let's just begin our homework."

"Alright?"

"Okay so what part of statistics does your small brain not understand?"

"Well, quite frankly—everything—well since the start of 2nd semester that is."

"What?! How have you survived that class so long if you haven't even understood—we're in 3rd semester now—what?!"

"Look Braus, are you going to help me or not?"

"Ugh you're the one who wanted me here anyways!"

"Yeah uh I had to find some way to get something out of you in return of telling nobody your dumb secret."

"Jean, okay we go to a preppy rich school in the middle of nowhere that's like 24 kilometres away from where I live and basically every person there gets upset if they get a Jeep instead of a range rover and same vice versa—hell I'd be fine with a buggy—so don't act like it's a dumb secret alright!"

Jean stood silent for some time, soaking in the cold truth Sasha just said.

"Uh how about those samples sizes eh and degrees of freedom?"

"Whatever, I knew you'd be like every one of them. Let's just get this over with."

For two hours they studied and Sasha focused on teaching him the ins and outs of binomial probability, the Z score, T score, percentages, and how to draw it out.

"Okay well I think this is enough for one day—going to samples sizes and proportions might be a bit too much." Sasha said, herself quite exhausted from showing this dumkopf what he should've known all year long.

"Sure, uh want to play some video games? I have my PS4 still wrapped up and we can play some GTA 5 or Gho—"

"Sure! Why not" Sasha was up for it. And how ironic, just when she thought he didn't have one he did. "Where is it?" She sounded extremely cheery. Out of the ordinary really.

"Uh it's over here." Jean replied, pulling it from out under his bed. He grabbed the cutting knife from the platter of food and jabbed into the box's side.

"Here I can do that—"

"No it's fine I got it." Jean said nicely.

They unravelled the wrappings and Jean gave Sasha some scissor to cut open another thing that contained a second player.

"Okay so which one?" Jean wiped the sweat off his face, all this PS4 setting up was exhausting.

"Uhm well I'll just go with GTA5."

"Alright, I'll just go clean up as you play—wait—don't you have a curfew or something?"

"Uh—well I should, but I don't. Our director doesn't really care once we're 15 and up."

"Oh." Jean replied awkwardly, and went straight back to cleaning up.

"I'll put your backpack and text book on this seat okay?"

"Uh-huh. . ." Sasha's eyes were glued to the screen as she was stuff herself with cold popcorn.

Jean chuckled to himself at the sight. He was all done and sat next to Sasha on his bed.

"Having fun?" Jean chuckled.

"Uh-huh. . . sure" Sasha was still glued to the game as she was running away from the crime scene—she just shanked 4 civilians and punched someone in the gut for their money.

"Yeah and uh thanks for the help with my class—much appreciated" Jean spoke lower, hoping Sasha wouldn't notice what he was doing. "But you know what would be more fun?" at this point Sasha was tuning out everything but the game. Jean's left hand was seeping over to Sasha's hip and once he was in the clear, he grabbed it and yanked the controller out of her hand, whilst at the same time turning her body to his.

"Ah!" She screamed lowly and he clicked the set off. "Jean what—what are you doing?!"

"Shhh" He smirked smugly as he took a good look at her, his eyes scanning her frightened face and chest. "C cup I'm guessing? Nice" He thought to himself. Her back was on his bed and he mounted over her.

"Come on—I've seen the way you've looked at me when you were with Marco, I know you've thought about this as much as I have."

"No—no Jean I haven't!" Her voice trembling. "I mean Jean has nice looks but never—not ever!" She yelled in her head, whimpering as Jean took out her ponytail slowly.

"That's much better." Jean went to her neck and began kissing her there.

"Gods, please help me, I don't know what to do—wait!" Sasha thought quickly.

"No!—No—I-I'm saying no!" Sasha exclaimed.

Jean rose from where he was and looked down at her, his face unmoving. "You really think I care? I mean I got away with what I did to Marco—don't think I can outwit these dumb cops again?"

Sasha's eyes widened. Suddenly realising what happened. The car accident was never an accident in the first place—the whole forgotten argument—non-existent!

"I-I won't tell anyone! Please Jean if you could just let me go—" Sasha squealed in pain as Jean gripped her left should tightly, his face growing mean and angry.

"I didn't want to do this the hard way Braus—let's not get hasty now." He spat between his teeth and golden brown eyes to the girl below him who had been tearing up. He pinned her arms straight down and bit the buttons of her shirt off with his teeth.

He felt her chest rising and dropping from her shaking, and he smiled, feeling quite proud of himself to strike fear into her.

"If you don't comply Braus, I'm afraid you'll have to join Marco, and I don't need to stage a shitty accident to get the job done—do I make myself clear?"

"Mhm!" Sasha nodded quickly, with her eyes stretched in fear.

"Good. Now that we have that out of the way, let's get off these suffocating garments shall we?" Sasha nodded, and Jean released his grip from her arm to take off his button up top. Sasha went to unhook her bra when Jean out of the blue smacked her. Her face receded into the bed and she slowly brought her hand to her red face to ease the pain.

"No! That's not how we play the game okay!" Jean uttered, and realised what he had done. "Sasha? Baby I'm sorry—let—let me see." He got off of her and pet her face as she cried into his bare chest.

"I'm so sorry—I'll not do it again—just—just don't cry anymore.. . . I'm sorry."

"This guy is a nut, I need to leave—escape. There's a cutting knife over on his nightstand from when he cut the box opened—stupid stupid Jean—you thought you were so smart didn't you?" Sasha thought to herself, still shaking in her captor's arms.

Jean realised how nice he was being and went back to unhooking her brassiere. He took off his garments right to the skin and was absolutely half naked with his knickers still intact, as Sasha stood there in her pants and topless.

"Come on, don't be afraid." He cooed into her ear. Her arms remained in an X, shielding her womanly parts. "Jean please. . ." she cried softly.

"I don't care—now let go!" He ripped her arms apart and she yelled as he saw what she hid. Two perfect mounds before him that she hid all to herself. "Sharing is a wonderful thing isn't it?" he chuckled and laid her back to the pillows.

"I'll—I'll scream!"

Jean scoffed and laughed at her. "Sasha—look around, my parents aren't home and I live 45 kilometres away from any single building—no one's going to hear your whore screams."

Sasha sunk into the pillows, accepting her fate, still crying with her cold chest.

"Just try not to enjoy yourself too much." Jean winked and Sasha shuddered. Before Jean went any further, he saw the photo of Marco smiling, resting plainly on his night stand. He looked back down at Sasha whom had her eyes shut with streaming tears, holding herself as if someone were to hit her any second now. He dismounted himself from her, and threw the covers on her revealed skin. He got up, buttoning up his shirt and looked to his specifically timed calander.

Sasha was not crying anymore, and she opened her eyes "Huh?" She was relieved really. And grabbed for her torn shirt.

"Je-Jean I won't tell anyone I promise—I'll do anything just please—don't—"

"Shut up." He cut her off in a stoic tone of voice.

Sasha gulped back her tears and sass, avoiding to get sassy with him, trying not to set him off again so he wouldn't return to doing what he just was.

"Je-Jean?"

"SHUT UP I SAID!" He turned around red in the face at her in a second. She held her tongue back and seeped into the sheets, clutching her top.

"Ugh." He rubbed both his fingers at his nose bridge, eyes closed in thought. "Just get dressed." He plainly commanded, with a monotone voice. "And for your knowledge, you're never leaving this place. Mina didn't, and you sure as hell aren't either. Don't make the same mistakes she did. Or you'll end up next to her."

Jean adjusted a tie on himself and tossed a pair of sweats at her. Then a band shirt along with a heart-dotted bra that was slightly smaller than her own size.

"Where is this bra from—Mina. Dear Gods, bless her soul and I pray you keep my virtue and soul safe, I pray you to safely get me out of here." Sasha thought to herself.

"Hey? What are you looking at?" Jean looked up at his ceiling, Sasha was mentally praying to the Gods.

"Whatever—just chop chop and get dressed Braus, dinner's on me—and say anything I'll slit your throat on sight." Jean left the room to make a call and left the door a crack opened.

"I might as well put these on." Sasha thought, hopelessly looking down into her lap full of clothing.

"Hi uh yeah—Markovski I need you in today—yeah and your sister too. I have a guest over and I'd like to show her what I have to offer." It was silent for a while as Jean paced back in forth through the door's cracks. "Yeah—alright. I know it's late—well it's only like 19:23—just get here alright!" Then more silence. Sasha finished putting on the slightly tight bra and top on. "No don't make fillet mingnon—'cause I said so! Just make something authentic—original or rarely used—alright be here in 30 Markovski or you and your sister are fired!" He beeped his phone to end the call and came back in. Sasha immediately put her head down—pretending to not have been listening the entire time. Then she slipped on her shoes in a jiffy and flattened out her sweats, and looked back up at Jean, giving him a weak smile.

"You look nice—come on, I'll give you a tour of the house if I can get it done in time." Jean smiled sweetly—so sweetly Sasha could vomit her empty stomach out on him.

She timidly walked to him as he held his angled arm out to hers.


End file.
